Chairs scraped along the wooden floor as people found seats. There weren’t enough chairs for everyone, so many of the men remained standing along the walls. Bess started toward her sisters.
Mr. Llewellyn stood, blocking her path, and indicated a chair he’d managed to keep anyone else from claiming. “Would you honor me with your company, Miss Craig?”
“Thank you, but I’ll sit with my sisters.” She hurried on, glad that thoughtful Corrie had kept a chair free beside her. Bess couldn’t grow accustomed to attention from some of the area’s most upstanding citizens. The banker back in Rhode Island wouldn’t have given the daughter of a dairy farmer the time of day.
A piano stood along the wall at right angles to the bar. Parson Harris stood beside the piano and led the congregation in prayer. Then Harry sat down on the piano stool.
“Do you know ‘Come, We That Love the Lord’?” the parson asked.
“No, sir.”
“ ‘My God, How Wonderful Thou Art’?” Harry’s face brightened. “Yes, sir.”
With a relieved smile, Parson Harris started the song. The congregation joined in. Bess and her sisters and the Collingswood brothers sang out strong against the background of male voices that stumbled over the words.
After the hymn, Parson Harris announced, “Mrs. Luke Collingswood has graciously agreed to sing for us.”
Corrie stood and handed Madeline to Bess, who looked at her shy sister in surprise. Corrie had a lovely singing voice, but she’d never had the courage to sing alone in front of anyone but family. It seemed she was blossoming in all sorts of ways since marrying Luke in February in a quiet ceremony at the ranch. His face was bright with pride as he watched her move to the piano.
Corrie’s voice rang out sweet and true. The men were so still, they seemed to have stopped breathing. As Corrie began the third verse, Bess realized the wisdom of her choice of song. Certainly, these men would relate to the words.
“All beauty speaks of Thee:
the mountains and the rivers,
the line of lifted sea,
where spreading moonlight quivers—”
“What’s going on here?” A woman’s harsh voice called out, halting Corrie’s song.
Shocked and angry at the interruption, Bess turned. A pretty, black-haired woman of about thirty stood in the open doorway, fists planted on the hips of a garish red dress. Bess gulped. She’d never seen the woman before, but she knew instantly the woman was Margaret Manning, who flaunted her dancing girls before Lickwind’s men—and the dancing girls flanked Margaret Manning now.
Chapter 2
Anger and disbelief fought for supremacy in Bess’s emotions. Had these … women … no sense of propriety? Back in Rhode Island, such women knew their place, and that place was not in a church service or in the presence of decent women like the Craig sisters.
She pushed aside the thought that in Rhode Island church services weren’t held in saloons, which were the usual territory of dancing girls.
“Well, well, well.” Margaret Manning walked between the tables, grinning at the self-conscious men as she made her way toward the piano. “What would your wife think if she knew you were in a saloon, Parson?” The color drained from Parson Harris’s face.
Bess glanced about the room. Bess was sure the circuit rider was glad his wife hadn’t accompanied him on the circuit this time. Why didn’t one of the men do something?
Margaret stopped beside Corrie. Up close, Bess saw that Margaret looked older than her years beneath her powder and rouge. Margaret ran her glance over Corrie, who appeared too shocked to move. Corrie—with her blond coronet and gray and mauve gown—looked like an angel beside the dance hall woman.
Luke and Jim bolted to their feet. They were beside Corrie in an instant, glaring at Margaret. “Maybe you should leave, Miss Manning,” Luke suggested in a threatening tone.
The woman laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m not the big, bad wolf. I’m not going to hurt the little lady.”
Gideon Riker clasped Margaret’s elbow. “Why don’t you let me see you home?”
Margaret tugged her arm, but Gideon kept his hold. “When did you turn your saloon into a church, Gideon? You didn’t act so religious when me and the girls were in here last night.”
His mouth tightened into a thin line. He started walking, and Margaret had no choice but to join him. “Let’s go,” he said to the other girls at the door.
The red-haired boy whom Bess noticed earlier stood beside one of the dance hall girls, a redhead who appeared to be about Bertie’s age. Her green dress wasn’t as flamboyant as Margaret’s. “I’d like to stay, Gideon,” the girl said in a low voice. “I haven’t been to a church service in ever so long.”
Gideon appeared to hesitate. He glanced back at Parson Harris, who shrugged as if to say he didn’t know what to answer.
“I won’t be no trouble, Gideon,” she urged. She rested her hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Walter and I will stand back here by the door, quietlike.”
Margaret reached for the girl. “Come on, Regina. These people don’t want sinners like us here.” Her harsh laugh showed her contempt for the “good” townspeople.
The truth of her words shamed Bess. How could they turn aside a young woman who wanted to listen to the service? How could they know her heart? Bess shot to her feet, Madeline still in her arms. “Anyone is welcome to stay if they truly wish to hear God’s Word.”
A murmur ran through the room, but no one protested Bess’s declaration.
Gideon shrugged.
Margaret pointed her finger at Regina. “Don’t you go turning religious on me.” Laughing, Margaret walked through the batwing doors, followed by the two other dance hall girls.
Regina stayed, standing beside the door with Walter and looking young and frightened. Corrie, still trembling slightly from her experience, sat down beside Luke. Parson Harris cleared his throat and began his sermon. The crowd of men—most of whom Bess suspected would have enjoyed the dancing girls’ presence under any other circumstances—breathed a collective sigh of relief.
When the final prayer was over, Bess looked for Regina. The young woman was slipping out between the batwing doors. “I’ll be right back,” Bess told Corrie, then started after the woman with the red hair and gentle expression.
Bess excused herself repeatedly as men tried to stop her to talk. If she didn’t hurry, she’d lose sight of Regina.
The girl was in front of Amos Freeling’s blacksmith shop when Bess reached the saloon’s boardwalk. “Miss Regina, wait, please!”
The woman turned, a surprised expression on her pretty face. Men stared at Bess in shock. Bess’s face heated, but she refused to allow her embarrassment to deter her. The rain had slowed to barely a drizzle and the wind had stopped, but Bess barely noticed as she left the protected saloon boardwalk and stepped onto the dirt road.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know your last name,” Bess said when she reached Regina.
“Bently. Regina Bently. Thank you for speaking up for me back there, Miss Craig.”
“You know who I am?”
Regina smiled. “Everyone around here knows who the Craig sisters are.” Her smile died. “Same as everyone knows who I and the rest of Margaret’s girls are. You shouldn’t be talkin’ with me, miss.”
“I hope you’ll attend our services again, Miss Bently.”
Regina dropped her green-eyed gaze to the ground. “Most people won’t take kindly to my presence at the meetings.”
“I doubt there’s one of them so perfect before God that they can refuse you the right to hear God’s Word and worship Him. Besides, my sister and I noticed your voice during the last hymn. The congregation can use another beautiful singing voice.”
A shy smile lit Regina’s eyes. “Thank you. I’ll think on your invitation.” She glanced over Bess’s shoulder. “Good day.” She started toward the back of the blacksmith shop to the building where Bess knew the dance hall girls stayed.
; As Bess turned around, a frowning quartet comprised of Jim, Matty, Luke, and Corrie joined her.
“I don’t think you should be talking with her, Bess,” Jim warned, looking uncomfortable. “Maybe you don’t realize, but—”
“I know how she earns her living, Jim, but something or Someone made her want to stay at the service this morning.” Bess looked from Matty to Corrie. “Perhaps the Lord brought us here for reasons other than we believed.”
Her sisters exchanged startled looks. Then they smiled. Corrie nodded. “Perhaps He did at that.”
“Now, Corrie,” Luke started.
Bess glanced at the street, which was filled with men from the service. “Where’s Bertie?”
Chapter 3
Gideon stood outside the batwing doors, wondering whether he was dreaming the unusual morning occurrences. Men still milled in the street, casting longing gazes at Bess Craig. The unpredictable woman was, of all things, talking with Regina in plain sight of the entire town. He couldn’t recall ever seeing a lady speak to a dance hall girl. The men who’d been hankering after Miss Craig’s hand in marriage were probably reconsidering about now.
Like all the rest of the men in the area, Gideon had made a trip to the Rough Cs to meet the Craig sisters. Jim Collingswood had snatched up friendly Matty right off. Then Luke married that sweet Corrie. Bertie was too young to interest Gideon.
But, Bess … well, he still remembered the sight of her getting off the train. He’d considered getting in line to ask to court her but changed his mind right fast. A lady deserved better than a saloon owner for a husband. And it was as certain as sagebrush in Wyoming that pious, proper Bess would agree. Besides, her face looked too stern to entertain a smile. And the way she dressed—severe, dark clothes like that gray outfit she wore today, her dark brown hair pulled back tight in a bun. Dressed more like a widow in mourning than a lady looking for a husband. No, sir, he didn’t cotton much to being hitched for life to a woman as sober and proper as Elizabeth Craig.
Gideon yawned. He wasn’t accustomed to seeing the light of day at this time of morning. He rubbed the palm of his hand over his face then grinned. He was the only man in town, besides Doc, who hadn’t shaved this morning.
He heard a man clear his throat and realized Parson Harris stood beside him, Bible and hat in hand. “Thank you for allowing us to use your business establishment for the services, Mr. Riker. I hope we didn’t cause you too much trouble.”
“No trouble at all.” Seemed more like entertainment to him, in fact. “Welcome to use it again any Sunday morning.” He saw no harm in making the offer. It didn’t rain often enough in Lickwind to expect Parson Harris to need the saloon again. Besides, once Bess and Bertie Craig married, church attendance would dwindle back to the normal handful of sincere faithful.
That was, assuming any man dared take Bess Craig on as a wife. Gideon chuckled, remembering the way she’d all but demanded the use of his saloon. He had to admit, he admired her gumption.
Gideon yawned again and pushed his way through the batwing doors. He should probably keep the saloon open with all those men in town. Some were sure to stop in for a drink. But all he wanted to do was get some shut-eye.
He stopped short. Bertie Craig stood behind the bar, her back to him. Beside her, Harry proudly listed off the different types of alcohol available, pointing at the appropriate bottles.
“Harry, what are you …?”
Harry and Bertie turned to stare at Gideon as he stormed across the room, boots thunking against the wooden floor. “Get out from behind that bar, the both of you.”
Bertie hurried out, fear on her freckled, tomboyish face. “For true, I didn’t hurt a thing, sir. And I didn’t even look at the picture.”
“I should hope not.” Gideon grabbed her arm just above the elbow. He started to escort her toward the door. She almost stumbled in her attempt to keep up with him. Her free hand pressed the brim of the hat to her strawberry blond hair to keep the hat from falling off.
A growl, accompanied by something yanking at his trousers, stopped him. The strangest-looking dog he’d ever seen glared up at him. He tried to shake it off.
“Don’t hurt Ramon,” the girl pleaded. “He’s just being protective of me.”
Gideon started toward the door again, his fingers still around the girl’s arm and the dog dragging along.
Harry hurried alongside them. “Nothing happened, Gideon. I watched out for her.”
“That’s a comfort,” Gideon said dryly.
“I know how to treat a lady.” Harry’s voice rose in indignation.
“Then you know a lady has no place in a saloon.” He deserved this for being softhearted and taking Harry on as a barkeep. What he needed was someone with the brawn of Amos the blacksmith, who could squelch fights in the saloon. But he’d felt sorry for Harry. He was only a kid with no family to look out for him.
Bertie’s smile beamed. “Bess says I’m not a lady yet, but almost.”
Gideon groaned. Miss Bess Craig must have her hands full with this one.
“Besides, all us Craig sisters were here for church,” Bertie protested. “We were here for Ellis Stack’s trial, too, but I couldn’t see much then.”
“Unless we have another rainstorm on a Sabbath morning before your sister is hitched, you’ll not see the inside of this saloon again.”
“For true, that’s why I took advantage of the opportunity.”
Gideon stopped, his hand still gripping her arm, and stared at her. “Opportunity?”
Her face shone bright with innocence. “Yes, sir. The opportunity to see a den of iniquity up close.” She squinted at him. “You don’t look depraved.”
He muttered under his breath and pushed open a batwing door, almost hitting Miss Bess Craig, who’d just stepped onto the saloon’s boardwalk from the rain-soaked street. “There you are, Bertie. I was beginning to believe you’d headed back to the ranch on foot.”
Gideon released his hold on Bertie.
“You can let go now, Ramon,” the girl urged the dog.
To Gideon’s amazement, the dog did as she said, though it continued growling.
Gideon nodded toward Bertie. “You’d best keep a close watch on this one, Miss Craig. If ever there was a girl named Trouble, this one is it.”
Anger flashed from Bess’s brown eyes. She reached for Bertie, drawing the girl into her embrace. “I’ll thank you not to insult my sister, Mr. Riker.”
Gideon felt his face heat from her reproof. His embarrassment fueled his anger. He’d been fifteen the last time a woman used that tone with him. He bit back the reply dangling on the tip of his tongue. “Sorry, miss.”
Bess looked as though she’d like to refuse his apology, but she didn’t. Instead, she said in a hard voice, “The Collingswoods, Bertie and I, and Parson Harris are planning to picnic in the jailhouse. We’d be pleasured if you’d join us, since you allowed us the use of your … premises for the service.”
Pleasured? He’d bet his new house she wasn’t a bit pleasured at the prospect of his company. “I’d be most honored, Miss Craig. Thank you kindly.”
She nodded at him—a short, clipped sort of nod led by her pointed chin. “Come, Bertie.”
He grinned, rubbing the palm of his hand across the stubble on his chin, as he watched them head next door to the jailhouse.
When Gideon started for the jailhouse twenty minutes later, he sported a clean-shaven face and smelled as good as the cheap aftershave from Jones’s General Store allowed—just like all the other bachelors in the Lickwind vicinity. He even wore his best shirt. He chuckled as he walked along, amused that of all the bachelors at church that morning, he’d been the worst dressed and the only one not there voluntarily—but he was the one invited to picnic with Miss Bess Craig. Obviously not for romantic reasons, but that fact only added to the humor of the situation.
The sight that greeted him when he stepped inside the jailhouse knocked his pride down a peg. He evidently wasn’t the
only bachelor invited. He stood in the doorway and surveyed the men. If he’d prepared a list of the most eligible men in the area, these were the men whose names would be on that list: Jones, the owner of the general store; Squires, the feedstore owner; short and portly Oscar Hatch, the barber, with his cookie-duster mustache, and his lanky cousin Linus, the telegraph operator; Amos Freeling, the blacksmith; Mr. Llewellyn; the lawyer Donald Potter; and ranchers Josiah Temple and Clyde Kincaid.
Well, maybe Kincaid wouldn’t make Gideon’s list. Gideon hated to see the man enter the saloon. He cheated at cards as sure as wind whipped Wyoming.
“We’re so glad you could join us, Mr. Riker.” Mrs. Jim Collingswood smiled up at him. “The food is set out in the area that will be a cell once the bars arrive and are set in.”
“Sure there’s enough food, ma’am? You’ve quite a crowd here.”
“Yes, isn’t it nice? They all just showed up. This is such a friendly town.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Friendly like a coyote after a chicken, and Bess Craig is the prey. But Matty’s comments restored his assurance that he was the only unmarried man here by invitation.
He made his way across the room, greeting people along the way, until he reached the barless cell. It was a mite crowded. Bess stood beside the mattressless wooden cot attached to the wall, where the food was set out. The banker, Llewellyn, and the lawyer, Potter, flanked her. Others stood about with silly grins on their faces, hoping for a handout of Miss Craig’s attention.
Gideon smirked. Nice of Jim’s wife to let it slip that none of the other men were invited. This could be fun. Gideon softened his voice to courting tones. “So nice of you to invite me, Miss Craig.”
Unpleasant surprise flickered across the banker’s and lawyer’s faces—just the reaction Gideon hoped to see. With a sense of reluctance, the lawyer stepped back to allow Gideon beside Bess. The faint floral scent she wore nudged away the scent of Gideon’s aftershave and set his heart to quick-stepping.
Bartered Bride Romance Collection Page 33
